


Shadowfrost Magic is for Cold Naps

by ebonhighlord



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Amal “emotions are fake but so am i” Thazad, Drabble, Fluff without Plot, Lord “says fuck every other sentence and says he doesn’t care but does” Thorval, M/M, bro we are Headcanon writing, no beta we die like cocky ret paladins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:31:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonhighlord/pseuds/ebonhighlord
Summary: Thorval needs to pay more attention to rants about mana condensation from very tall liches.





	Shadowfrost Magic is for Cold Naps

**Author's Note:**

> this shit prob makes 0 sense outside of my head but all u need 2 kno is in my hc Amal’thazad was a frost magister who died in the razing of Silvermoon and was risen against his will and now He Is Gayer And Has Colder Hands Than Ever and Smushed Himself Into A Real Boy Suit To Put Those Cold Hands On His BF’s Neck

Lord Thorval laid still, arms clasped around the other as he felt their fingers rhythmically clench in the fabric of his nightgown, a bit stunned with affection as he tried to pin down how he managed to end up practically cuddling Acherus’s resident arch lich so easily.

While it wasn’t exactly a new occurrence for him to be shaken awake from the infrequent sleep he tried to grab in his personal quarters, it caught him off guard that the perpetrator for once, wasn’t a harried looking apprentice asking for his assistance in an emergency re-embowelment. Instead he found himself practically slapped by a wall of cold (colder than Acherus’s usual misty atmosphere) air as he turned over in his small bunk, any gripe over being disturbedforgotten as he rubbed at his suddenly dry eyes.

Fucking frost magic.

An elf stared down at him, glowing dots in their otherwise hollow eye sockets flaring almost painfully as an equally shining grin stretched ear to ear on their face.

“I figured it out.” They said simply, smile somehow widening with the words, pinprick iris narrowing in a strangely catlike fashion.

What.

One hand stopped rubbing at his eye as Thorval glanced slack jawed at the stranger, gaze sweeping across their attire- long, but thick black robes, almost certainly spellcaster clothing, a strange blue-indigo cloth obscuring their neck like a scarf- before flicking back to their face. They had stopped grinning, expression sliding into what seemed like an awkward grimace in reaction to his non response, head tilted inquisitively, the shadows of the room and their long red hair nearly obscuring several scars crossing their face. A messy, but overall handsome man, in Thorval’s opinion.

He still didn’t know who the fuck this person was. And so he said just as much.

“Who the blistering fuck are you?”

And just like that, their smile returned, a sad lopsided thing.

“So, you weren’t listening the other day after all.” Their eyebrows scrunched in annoyance and they glanced toward the closed door to his quarters. “Another bet Alistra has won.”

Thorval swung his legs off the side of the bed, not bothering to pull off the tangled blankets in frustration as he tried to ignore the muffled “YES!” from behind the door and gestured back at the man in front of him.

“Listening to WHAT? I still don’t know who the fuck you are and I’m getting tired of this game. You wake me up in the middle of my sparse rest time after assumedly _breaking_ into my quarters and start spewing riddles at me like I have any damned obligation to answer th-“

“**Thorval.**” He froze mid aggravated wave at the sudden chilled depth in the others voice, an equally cold hand tilting his chin back up to look him in the eye.

That cold he could never forget, no facade of flesh and cloth could hide the unique feeling of frigid bone sliding on his skin. Moving the stilled hand up to cup the others, he sighed in realization.

“Ah. Amal’thazad. I’m a fucking idiot.” Swiping his free hand down his face in aggravation, he groaned as the lich built into a ribshaking chuckle, tone evening out into something more mortal as he stepped closer to Thorval, bending down and placing his chin on top of his head fondly.

“And I’m just as much a fool for expecting you to be paying attention to other people while doing cadaver maintenance.”

Thorval only grumbled in response as he scooted sideways on the bed to make room, leaning into the one sided hug Amal’thazad pulled him into as he sat down beside him.

A pleasant silence reined for a few minutes before Amal’thazad hummed thoughtfully.

“So....thoughts? Criticisms? Suggestions?”

“About what?”

The lich deadpanned, shifting to give Thorval an unimpressed glance.

“About the wallpaper. What do you think I’m talking about?”

Thorval deadpanned back, knocking the side of the lich’s head with his own, producing an amusing clack sound.

“Leave me be, you did wake me up in the middle of a nap. But to answer, you look....different than I was expecting.”

Amal’thazad turned, posing dramatically the best he could while pursing his lips, hands framing his face.

“Oh? Am I too handsome? Were you perhaps expecting a decrepit old hag like Kel’thuzad behind the bones?”

Thorval snorted, pushing him over as they both chuckled in amusement, the other pulling him with him into an awkward face to face squirm against each other as they tried to adjust for room on the bed. Finally fitting into a tangled mess of limbs against each other, Thorval buried his head in the soft frostweave fabric of Amal’thazad’s robes, slightly glad they were corporeal and covering what was likely an illusion hiding the rib cage of the lich’s compressed form.

“I wasn’t expecting the red hair,” One hand tangled in a lock of it, condensed mana cool against his fingers in a mimicry of strands, “I guess I’m so used to the muted colors around here that such a rich shade is a bit of novelty these days.”

Amal’thazad only rumbled in response, pleased at the contact. Thorval continued,

“I won’t deny that you are handsome though. I’m glad to see you like this.”

The rumbling grew deeper into a full fledged purr pocked through with small giggles of embarrassed glee as Thorval was fully smothered in 6 feet and 7 inches of ecstatic lich curling around him.

**Author's Note:**

> lady alistra queen of winning bets


End file.
